august’s ears had become accustomed to certain sounds in the five years he’d known these cold stone walls. the midnight toll that was so loud it summoned the rats from their hiding places to nibble on his toes as he slept, a bad storm’s run off that would drip into his cell until it left him wading in a murky pool about an inch high, or the pitched voices of worshipers on a sunday morning. he only ever heard himself speak when he chose to. or when a priest would come down to chastise him or on a rare occasion, to confide in him. often inquiring as to when the savages would return or what this spring’s crop yield would bring… he promised god never told him anything and would never tell him till tears burned his cheeks but they still never gave him the key.
and even with the slight change in routine, august’s ears began to recognize the sounds of the savages’ heavy footsteps, fearless and eager as they bound down the halls to do away with any christian that lay in their path. he tightens once more at the sound of what he imagines is another savage ready to avenge his fallen brethren that remained scattered in piles outside his cage. though what he thinks is a northerner thudding down the stairs in the distance never turns into footsteps just a menacing shallow dragging sound that causes the blood to ache within his veins ( an energy that needed to be released… )
the dragging stops momentarily, silence befalling the cell where he is reminded by the rats clawing at the floor that his hell is not new despite whoever and whatever is. and then a face, which was about as familiar as it got. his laugh, his toothy grin, the way blue hues gleamed with excitement against the dim light… he was unlike the others that came before him.
and if august had to guess, any priest, god, or mortal behind those holy oak doors was dead except for him, leaving him to rot in his cage for the rest of eternity. if he ever wanted to leave those forsaken walls, this… happy little viking was his only chance. besides, bars or no bars, august could drop him without even being near him once he got him to unlock the door.
“ give me the key and i won’t bestow the same fate upon you, savage. ” augustus replies, tilting his chin up.
S A V A G E. the word echos off the walls, bounding across the room. he is not fazed. ------ has been called far worse ---- overcome . . far worse. the grin curling at his lips slips into a devilish smile. fear does not take him, only DETERMINATION. the gods have not led him here to die, this he knows. ( this he FEELS, deep in his being. ) a delighted giggle rises in his throat, and ivar adjusts into a sit. he drags his lifeless legs around, bound together by the fabric wrapped around weak calves.
❛ i don’t have your key. ❜ ivar shakes his head, gaze unwavering. not technically. a pause lingers in the stench filled air between them. he crosses his arms over one another, draping them against his thighs. fingers rotate the axe in hand, tapping the side against his leg. this christian was different from those slaughtered before him. the weak did not conquer vikings, they were conquered by them ------ to defeat so many, in such a mysterious way . . .oh, he was curious. almost desperate for the boy to divulge him. ivar leans forward, gaze pouring into the boy behind bars, heavy weight to his eyes as if he could peel his skin back with sight alone and find all that made him.
❛ but . . . ----- you tell me how you killed my men and i will set you free. ❜ this, he bargains. ------- a PROMISE. but something tells him this boy does not need his words. the gods have brought him here today for a special reason, and though he does not see it yet, he knows he will soon. ---- HE CAN FEEL IT. his faith carries him so, just as it has so many times before.
--------- tongue tsks behind ivory teeth. ❛ why have your brethren locked you away ? you must have done something... ? ❜ brows raise, light suggestion. HUMOR HIM.
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